


So I Made This Bet...

by BloodFromTheThorn



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Request Fill, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodFromTheThorn/pseuds/BloodFromTheThorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A request fill for: Modern Aramis/Porthos 'I made this bet with my friends that I could get a date with you so what's your number' Mostly just harmless flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So I Made This Bet...

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this as a request a little while back. I was hesitant because as some of you may have noticed, I almost always stick to canon relationships, my one exception being alluding to a BlackHawk relationship. However, I did promise never to turn away a request if I could help it so, I tried. There's not any actual real romance I guess, but still. Whatever. We'll see how this goes.
> 
> The prompt was modern Aramis/Porthos 'I made this bet with my friends that I could get a date with you so what's your number?'

Porthos startled a little when the unfamiliar figure slid into the booth opposite him, almost knocking over his drink on the way. He'd been expecting Flea but the head of fluffy, brown hair certainly wasn't his childhood friend, and nor were the dark eyes that peered out at him from under the unruly mop – and on a completely unrelated side note, hot _damn._

"You're not Flea," was all he managed to say. Honestly, what more could anyone expect him to say when he was suddenly faced with someone who looked like _that_?

The man sitting across from him smirked – and sweet Christ that grin had to be illegal because it wasn't safe for something like that to be unleashed on the unsuspecting population – and winked at him. "You're right about that one."

Utterly distracted by the quicksilver flash of teeth, Porthos did little more than gape at him.

By some stroke of luck – possibly divine intervention – the man took pity on his helplessness. "I'm Aramis. It's a pleasure to meet you." He looked like he was about to stick out a hand for him to shake but he stopped, throwing an uncertain look over his shoulder before turning back to smile at him again.

Porthos had just about located his voice, somewhere around his ankles, and was in the process of dragging it back up into his throat. He looked in the direction the man – Aramis – had. Three tables over there were two men watching them; well, one was watching – staring even – while the other showed slightly more decorum and was only glancing at them every few seconds while reading what appeared to be a very battered copy of Moby Dick.

"Porthos," he introduced, finally getting his voice back on his side. "Friends of yours?"

"The very best," Aramis agreed with another smile. If he kept doing that, Porthos was going to give himself an aneurysm. "But more importantly, they are two gentlemen with whom I have just made a substantial bet. As you can probably imagine, I am very unwilling to lose."

The things he could do with his voice were utterly sinful and Porthos was genuinely wondering if he'd somehow choked on his cocktail, died and was now sitting in heaven's waiting room; it certainly seemed possible. "Bet?"

"You see, we were discussing my… proclivity for passionate pastimes-" Porthos choked a little and Aramis' grin returned in full force, "-and they wagered that I couldn't get a date with anyone in this place."

Forcing himself at least vaguely into becoming a coherent human being, Porthos felt the need to ask, "And instead of chasing the waitress, you thought I'd make a better target?"

"Well the waitress is, sorrowfully, more interested in my friend in the brown leather jacket and they would both have been mortified by my efforts. But you're sitting here alone, no wedding ring on your finger and you've been checking out that guy at the bar for the last ten minutes. I fancied my chances. Of course it doesn't hurt that you are sinfully attractive my friend."

It was true enough that Porthos had been eyeing up a brunette at the bar – what? The guy had a great ass and those jeans were a work of art – but faced with Aramis, he was all but forgotten. Then Aramis' last sentence hit him like a truck, and Porthos was set straight back to wordless gaping.

"But, I should say that if you are set on the man at the bar, his name's Lemay and he likes whiskey. A glass or two of that and he'll be your friend for life. Or a little more, as you wish." There was absolutely no judgement in his tone which was a refreshing change from most of the rest of society, though if Aramis was here about a date, he probably had no room to judge.

"You think I'm attractive?" Porthos finally managed to get out. It wasn't what he'd meant to say at all but that sentence was rattling around in his head and he needed the truth of it right now before his brain started dripping out his nostrils.

Aramis actually looked mildly startled, the furthest he'd been from suave since sitting down. "Have you seen yourself? I half mistook you for a Greek god when I first came in. Biceps like them must take some work."

Porthos flexed slightly in reflex, then instantly felt the fool. Aramis didn't seem to mind though. "You said something about a date?"

Aramis' smile was wider this time, a very real happiness shining out. "Does this mean that your intentions towards Lemay can be put aside to help a fellow man? You are truly a kind soul."

This time Porthos actually managed a smile of his own, feeling various other parts of his anatomy coming to life without his say so at the sharp shine in Aramis' eyes. "Not that kind. First round of drinks are on you." He scribbled his number down on the nearest napkin with the pen that Aramis seemed to have produced out of absolutely nowhere. He was prepared, this one.

"That seems to imply that more than one drink is on offer."

"I'll need to have a look at you when you walk away to be sure," Porthos reasoned, letting his smile drift a little sly. It had been months since he'd flirted with anyone and now some drop dead gorgeous man had dropped out the fucking sky to ask him on a date – everything's coming up Porthos.

"I can assure you that I've only ever had positive feedback."

"A man likes to judge these things for himself."

Aramis' eyebrows tilted very slightly and somehow his facial expression became approximately four hundred percent more filthy. Porthos' breath caught in his throat. Like the little shit he was turning out to be, Aramis laughed delightedly, letting the expression bleed away into a smile more fit for public areas. "Judge away then. I fear that we are about to be interrupted." He nodded his head towards the entrance when a slightly rain-damp Flea had just appeared, and was staring at the two of them with an 'are you actually kidding me' expression.

"You might be right," Porthos said, feeling inexplicably sad when Aramis moved to leave. "You better call me."

"I assure you, you need not worry on that front. I have a bet to lose remember?" He got to his feet with a flourish. Porthos was starting to think that the man was incapable of appearing inelegant no matter what he was doing.

"You never told me what you stood to lose if I said no."

Aramis' smile turned down-right predatory. "Why, I wouldn't have a date with you of course." Flea appeared at Porthos' shoulder and Aramis turned to leave before Porthos could do anything to stop him, heading back to his two friends who were now just staring at them with outright curiosity. True to his word, Porthos used the opportunity to ogle the guy's ass and he really couldn't be disappointed with what he saw.

Flea slid into the seat Aramis had just vacated and raised an eyebrow at him. "Care to explain what the hell that was?"

Porthos didn't know how to explain that without sounding utterly insane but he was saved by his phone chiming – a text from an unknown number.

' _Like what you saw?'_

Aware that Flea was watching him like a hawk, Porthos managed to stop himself from grinning like a fool. Instead he rattled off a reply, _'I could be convinced. You gonna ask me on a date or not?'_

' _Eager. I like it. There's a bar four doors down from here that does the most excellent cocktails. Tomorrow at 8?'_

"Do you want me to leave?" Flea asked him, squinting at his phone in the hopes of seeing the messages. He carefully tilted it away from her.

"I know that I'm being really rude and I'm sorry but the immediate future of my sex life might be about to start going places. This is too good an opportunity to pass up."

"That guy that was sitting here?" She wasn't foolish enough to turn and look for him, for which Porthos was grateful. She hummed approvingly. "Nice catch. Great ass."

"You're telling me."

His phone chimed again. _'It's rude to leave a man hanging.'_

Porthos huffed out an amused breath and replied, _'Can't let you think I'm too eager. I'll be there.'_

"He seems keen," Flea said, smiling. She was always happy to see him happy, and he'd been single for far too long. It was about time someone else started noticing how incredible Porthos was.

"What can I say? Apparently my speechless gaping has charm." Flea snorted inelegantly then tried to stifle her giggles in her sleeve. Porthos didn't know whether to be amused or offended.

' _Excellent. Please give your friend my apologies for taking up your time.'_

There was a pause for a second, then, _'Also, I would consider it a personal favour if you could wear those jeans again. Because of reasons.'_

Porthos laughed aloud before he relayed the message to Flea, poking at his phone until he'd saved the number. If he saved it under 'Restaurant Hottie' and not 'Aramis,' no one else was going to know.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to leave this here. I have no idea. As I've said before, I welcome all requests and I will do my level best to fill them but please try to stick to pairings that I usually write. This shit is hard man.


End file.
